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he teeth of the wind。 His hair swirled； black as a crow's wing。 〃There。〃 He pointed out across the choppy； leaden…hued Kynslagh into the murky distance。 A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the deep wells of his eyes。 〃Josua lives； indeed； and he is somewhere。。。 out。。。 there。 I have received word from a trusted source。〃 Thunder came； chasing the lightning。 〃Pryrates tells me my energies could be better spent。 He tells me not to worry about my brother。 If I had not seen a thousand kinds of proof of Pryrates' black and empty heart； I would think he felt sorry for Josua； so strongly does he argue against this mission。 But I will do as I please。 I am the king and I want Josua dead。〃 Another lightning flare etched his face； which was twisted like a ritual mask。 The king's voice strained； for a moment it seemed that only his white…knuckled grasp upon the stone sill kept him from toppling。 〃And I want my daughter back。 Back。 I want Miriamele back。 She has disobeyed her father； joining with his enemies。。。 with my enemies。 She must be punished。〃
Guthwulf could think of nothing to say。 He nodded his head； trying to dispel the terrible thoughts that now surged within him like a well filling with black water。 The king and his cursed sword！ Even now； Guthwulf felt the blade's presence sickening him。 He would go to the Thrithings and hunt for Josua； if that was what Elias wished。 At least he would be out of this horrible castle with its night sounds； its fearful servants and mad； mourning king。 He would be able to think again。 The earl would breathe unsullied air and keep the pany of soldiers once more； men with whose thoughts and conversation he was fortable。
Thunder rang through the chamber； setting the bells to humming。 〃I will do as you say； my king；〃 he said。
〃Of course；〃 Elias nodded； calm again。 〃Of course。〃
Scowling Guthwulf had gone away； but the king stayed for some time； staring out into the cloudy sky； listening to the wind as carefully as if he understood its mournful tongue。 Rachel； Mistress of Chambermaids； was beginning to feel very unfortable in her cramped hiding place。 Still； she had learned what she needed to know。 Her mind was full of ideas quite beyond her usual concerns： lately； Rachel the Dragon had found herself thinking thoughts she had never dreamed possible。
Wrinkling her nose against the harsh but familiar scent of polishing grease； she peeked out of the crack between the stone doorframe and the warped wooden door。 The king was still as a statue； gazing off into nothingness。 Rachel was again filled with horror at her own transgression。 Spying like the most slatternly； brought…in…just…for…the…holy…days servant girl！ And on the High King！ Elias was the son of her beloved King John…even if he couldn't hope to match up to his father…and Rachel； the Hayholt's last bastion of rectitude； was spying on him。
The thought make her feel faint and weak； the odoriferous grease did not help。 She leaned against the wall of the bell…ringer's closet and was grateful for its narrow confines。 Between the stacks of rope； the bell hooks and grease pots and brick walls standing close at either shoulder； she could not topple over even if she tried。 She had not meant to spy； of course…not really。 She had heard the voices as she was examining the woefully dirty stairs at Green Angel Tower's third floor。 She had stepped quietly out of the spiraling passageway into a curtained alcove so as not to seem to be listening to the king's business； for she had recognized Elias' voice almost immediately。 The king had climbed past； speaking as though to the grinning monk Hengfisk who acpanied him everywhere； but his words had seemed like babbling nonsense to Rachel。 〃Whispers from Nakkiga；〃 he had said； and 〃songs of the upper air。〃 He had spoken of 〃listening for the cry of the witnesses；〃 and 〃the day of the hilltop bargain ing soon；〃 and of things even less understandable。
The pop…eyed monk followed at the king's bootheels； as he always did these days。 The mad words of Elias washed over him； but the monk only nodded ceaselessly as he scrambled along behind…the king's grinning shadow。
Fascinated and excited in a way she had not felt for some time； Rachel had found herself following through the shadows a few ells behind the pair as they climbed what seemed a thousand steps up the tower's long stairway。 The king's litany of inprehensibles had continued until at last he and the monk disappeared into the bell chamber。 Feeling her age and the throbbing of her infirm back； she had remained on the floor below。 Leaning against the oddly…tiled stone walls； fighting for breath； she had wondered again at her own boldness。 An open workroom lay before her。 A great pulley had been spread in pieces on top of a sawdust…mantled block； a sledge lay on the floor nearby； as though its owner had disappeared in midswing。 There was only the main room and a curtained alcove beside the stairwell： thus； when the monk suddenly came pattering back down the steps； there had truly been no choice but to bolt for the alcove。
At the far end of the niche she had discovered a wooden ladder leading up into darkness。 Knowing she was caught between the king above and whoever his cupbearer might bring from below； she had seen no other choice but to climb upward in search of a more secure hiding place： anyone walking too close to the alcove might brush the curtain aside and reveal her； delivering Rachel up to humiliation or worse。
Worse。 The thought of the heads rotting like black fruit atop Nearulagh gate spurred her old bones up the ladder； which turned out to lead straight to the bell…ringer's closet。
So it had not really been her fault； had it？ She had not truly meant to spy…she had been virtually forced to listen to Elias' confusing conversation with the Earl of Utanyeat。 Surely good Saint Rhiap would understand； she told herself； and would intercede on Rachel's behalf when it came time to read from the Great Scroll in Heaven's anteroom。
She peered out through the door…crack again。 The king had moved to another window…this one facing north； into the churning black heart of the approaching storm…but otherwise seemed no nearer to leaving。 Rachel was beginning to feel panicky。 People used to say that Elias spent many sleepless nights at work with Pryrates in Hjeldin's Tower。 Was it the king's particular madness to walk around in towers until the break of dawn？ It was only afternoon now。 Rachel felt another bout of dizziness。 Was she to be trapped in here forever？
Her eyes； wildly darting； lit upon something carved on the inside of the bolted door and widened in surprise。
Somebody had scratched the name Miriamele into the wood。 The letters were cut deeply； as though whoever had done it had been trapped like Rachel； fidgeting away the time。 But who would be here in the first place that might do such a thing？
For a moment she thought of Simon； remembering how the boy would climb like an ape and get into trouble that others could not even find。 He had loved Green Angel Tower…wasn't it just a bit before King John died that Simon had knocked over Barnabas the sexton downstairs？ Rachel smiled faintly。 Th